Class _IP^,__aii.3-_ 
Book. — ^Mi2uS_ 
Copyriglit]^«_ ^ Ij03 

COPVRIGHT DEPOSfT. 



CICADAS IN HOME. SWEET 
HOME. 




HlCADAS 

IN Home 

HWEETmOME 




THE LIBRARY OF 
CONGRESS, 

Two Copies Received 

MAR 23 1903 

Copyiigi-it Entry 

CLASS CL XXc, No. 

COPY B. 



P6 3SX3 



COPYKI6HT, 1903, 

BT 

ALFRED LAMBOITRNE. 



Co M!iniini!(g 



i 


§ 



CICADAS IN HOME, SWEET 
HOME. 

I. 
FLOAT in melody, I drift 

with song; 
Music's sweet notes enrich 

the night around, 
And summer's hosts their 
tireless cry prolong; 
A piercing, crisp, intense, sharp, blade- 
like sound, 
Yet clear it melts, as for some magic balm 
With deathless harmonies of Home, 

Sweet Home. 
Ah ! true those symbols are — for Home 

the palm, 
The cactus and the sands for those who 

roam! 
And as I list unto the insects shrill, 
Ecstatic dwellers mid the vines and trees, 
All thoughts of deep content my bosom 

fill; 
Dear love, I weep while soft you touch 

the keys: 
Unto this moment fleeting, I could say 
With Faust, "Thou art so fair — ah, still 
delay!" 




II. 



|H, still delay, thou present 
moment fair! 
From welcome bondage, spare 

that I go free; 
A richest vesture thou for me 
dost wear; 
Like island affluent in life's charmed sea. 
Now the cicada's high and ceaseless din, 
I hear with words and tune immortal 

blend; 
The soft transcriptions draw it all within; 
A round doth make, a current without end. 
O, not mine own, another's fond content. 
Has caused to fall a slow, unbidden tear. 
Willing I cling unto imprisonment, 
That I go thence, indeed my only fear: 
All harmony within this moment lies — 
In Home, Sweet Home, "The Earthly 
Paradise." 




III. 

AIL, Earthly Paradise ! where 
true love takes 
Terrestrial reflex of the hea- 
venly mood; 
That cherished spot where 
symphony awakes, 
And stills the discord of earth's clamor 

rude! 
Hark ! once again from out the unseen 

room 
Those words undying come, and ripple 

slow; 
As here I sit amid nocturnal gloom, 
Upon mine ear the tender measures 

grow. 
And sounds like steel from out the dark- 
ness flash — 
The wakeful creatures, happy of the night; 
Like tiny scimetars the keen notes clash; 
Assail the gloom as though it were with 

light; 
All rhythmic sound the echoes in my 

breast, 
In Home, Sweet Home, love's Island of 
the Blest. 




IV. 

HE Island Blest, the Lotus 
Land of Peace, 
The golden refuge, lie in 

Home, Sweet Home, 
That song which holds the 
human heart in lease; 
Its power I learn beneath night's star-lit 

dome. 
What dearer moment can the future give, 
Than this, wherein a thousand transports 

crowd ? 
The loves of dead ancestors once more 

live. 
Within my heart they call to me aloud. 
Is this the issue of some happy plot. 
That through the song darts swift the 

insect's cry? 
No more I seek, nor need for mine allot. 
While voice beloved and omen sweetly vie: 
Apart this moment is from pain's abyss, 
As Fields of Lethe from the Walls of Dis ! 




V. 



HE Fields Lethean are this 

moment mine, 
As though my soul emerged 

from out that wave 
By that bright shore, where 
starry clusters shine, 
Those flowers whose roots in mystic 

waters lave. 
A sweet forgetfulness from self I find, 
Lost 'mid the cadences of verse and song; 
The overflow from one glad heart, com. 

bined 
With gleeful clamor of night's winged 

throng. 
Here let me rest, nor leave this hallowed 

goal; 
0, rather bid me all the world forsake ! 
These harmonies hath made my being 

whole, 
A cure hath wrought upon my every ache: 
In Lethe's stream there lies a mystic 

power — 
In Home, Sweet Home, the brightest 
earthly flower. 




VI. 



|N Home, Sweet Home, the 
flower of Lethe lies, 
The bright adornment of 

love's shining fields; 
In Home, Sweet Home, the 
world's loud tumult dies, 
A rich nepenthe there the spirit shields. 
Safe the cicadas, wrapt in summer ease, 
Amid their verdant coverts tireless sing; 
In Home, Sweet Home, my soul finds all 

appease, 
As thrilling words meet to responsive 

string. 
Quick, through the tender, soft melodic 

chord. 
Each tiny rival fierce staccato thrusts; 
The frenzied mirth of night's vehement 

horde, 
To lull all pain, the long held note ad- 
justs: 
Dear to my heart the wild, shrill serenade, 
And Home, Sweet Home, the flower no 
sun can fade. 




VII. 

HE serenade which I this mo- 
ment hear- 
Loud edged notes the glad 

night- watcher makes, 
And that loved song which 
ties of home endear, 
From out unfathomed heart of nature 

breaks. 
A noise obstreperous the insects raise. 
Bright contrast to euphonic, flowing tones; 
That chorus wild, amid the leafy maze. 
Is answered now from sweetest of all 

thrones. 
O, oft the rambler neath some alien pine, 
Has felt his heart at that wild chorus burn! 
O, oft the rover on the stormy brine 
At those sweet words, has longed for 

swift return ! 
O, unappeased desires have now rebound, 
I live and breath upon enchanted ground! 



VIII. 




ALL enchantment lies in 

Home, Sweet Home ! 
What power can break the 

love-accepted chains ? 
Its call is heard o'er ocean's 
leagues of foam, — 
No bar the pathless woods, nor desert 

plains. 
These sounds of revel, swift, acute and 

loud, 
I've heard where other vines their leaves 

unfurl, 
These melting lines have listed with the 

crowd 
Upon the streets amid the cities' whirl. 
O, then, what tumult in my heart was 

housed, 
A strange unrest to these sharp notes akin; 
What yearnings infinite the song aroused, 
As sorrow dwelt my troubled heart within: 
Afar from home the cypress boughs en- 
twine. 
In Home, Sweet Home, the myrtle wreath 
is mine. 




IX. 



|S cypress boughs, O sad the 
thoughts that sway, 
From Home, Sweet Home 

the absent one with fear; 
In solitude the longing heart 
must weigh 
The sum of that, which now I listen here. 
Now nature speaks and blends itself with 

art, 
And no false note where thought to voice 

is true. 
Unconscious all, each singer takes a part. 
And ere they die the symphonies renew. 
Shrill dwellers of the vine, thy notes dis- 
perse, 
And thou, loved voice, for absence make 

atone; 
O would that I this moment might coerce 
Through golden law and make it all mine 

own: 
O, sorrow now like to an old moon wanes, 
In Home, Sweet Home, where sweet con- 
tentment reigns. 




X. 



|H, sweet content but dwells in 
Home, Sweet Home, 
Nor in the world, nor in the 

prospect wide; 
Within the cottage of the 
weary mome, 
It reigns as oft as in the halls of pride. 
Sing, ye cicadas, housed amid the green. 
Make a shrill music as to some deep spell, 
What other than mine own can thy joy 

mean? 
And yet, I know mine own doth thine 

excel. 
Thou, too, beloved, O sing sweet notes 

and high. 
Here shall I learn where true love must 

abide, 
Blend song and word with those wild 

singers nigh; 
Here lives my hope, whatever may betide: 
Sing, happy singers — sweetest of all 

themes 
Is Home, Sweet Home, the golden Land 
of Dreams ! 





1 



XI. 



N Land of Dreams, O golden 

harbor bright, 
Not here the promise of the 

heart shall fail: 
This anchorage for struggle 
makes requite. 
Rest now my bark, and furl the useless 

sail. 
When saddened days the skies of life trans- 
form, 
Then, Home, Sweet Home, no haven like 

to thee; 
When gathered clouds presage the coming 

storm, 
Here is my calm, and here my rest shall 

be. 
Trill, happy creatures, anchored in the 

vine. 
Sharp on the night the vocal gladness falls, 
As voice and string I hear in melting line. 
Love unto love, as deep to deep, it calls: 
Ah, insects' cry, and chord, and note, and 

voice. 
Sweet rivalship to make my heart rejoice. 




XII. 

EJOICE, my heart, in this 
sweet rivalship, 
Thy measures make amid the 

^lad acclaim. 
Caressed each word that 
dwells upon the lip, 
And sweetly wild, night's watchers shrill 

proclaim. 
Hark, how vociferous the notes they shake-- 
The keen cicadas, happy in the strife ! 
And list, ah list, — as clear for gladness 

sake — 
Sweet word and melody awake to life ! 
O, shall I sink though heavy weight op- 
press — 
While sounds of concord, strength and 

hope shall give ? 
O, all forgotten now each wan distress. 
While these bright words and tuneful 

echoes live: 
This moment fleeting, blissful peace re- 
news. 
In Home, Sweet Home, where love comes 
like the dews. 



XIII. 




HE dews of gentle peace, and 

song, and verse, 
For me in this bright present 

focussed are; 
This moment fair and passing 
they immerse. 
As yonder heavens doth my natal star. 
O, what these melodies that upward steal, 
And by keen, shrilly notes are pierced 

through ? 
Their potent charm and sweet control I 

feel. 
As fateful power from out the skies they 

drew. 
Of Pleiades, O, naught the sway can bind. 
And so this moment bears my star's im- 
press; 
These sounds of joy my inmost bosom 

find, 
My soul doth touch as with a soft caress: 
Until that time I sleep beneath the loam, 
I'll love cicada's song, and Home, Sweet 
Home. 




XIV. 

iNTIL within the narrow house 
I sleep, 
Time shall not steal this mo- 
ment prodigal; 
While life is mine, securely 
will I keep 
Its song, and riot, and heart-festival; 
Yes, from the thief, remembrance shall 

hold back 
Those strains of Home, Sweet Home that 

softly glide; 
Those ardent notes and keen, that never 

slack 
And, with proclaimings, song and night 

divide. 
O, sing loved voice, and fingers deftly 

stray, 
Press light the keys, the eager heart as- 
suage ! 
And thou, wild rioters on branch and spray; 
With verse and melody thy contest wage: 
Sweet moment live, till life for me is past, 
And time to silence gives my heart at last. 



Mi\9. 23 1903 



LIbHAHY Uh UUNliHtbb 



020 994 538 1 




